Pages

Sunday, October 27, 2013

So Ben's birthday is next weekend (hint hint) but we decided to celebrate it this weekend with our friends! We had an incredible time, and my dear Ben was spoiled rotten. We started the weekend out with the Madrid vs. Barca, match on Saturday, where Ben was treated to plenty of delicious whiskey at an Irish pub, here in Madrid. Whiskey puts Ben in a happy place, so he was more than content to continue the night, with tapas, at an Argentinian restaurant near home. The steak there was the best we have had here in Madrid, and the staff was friendly, which made it a perfect restaurant. Ben then got dessert, which is very rare for him, because I usually forget about the existence of dishes that come after a meal, since they usually contain dairy... luckily our friend had his back, and treated him to tiramisu at a chocolateria.Today, we went to Parque de Atracciones, an amusement park here in Madrid. The consensus was that the ride called the Tarantula, was the most fun. It was a roller coaster, with seats that rotated (horizontally) independently of the turns and bends of the rest of the ride.
After the park today we went to our favorite sushi/ramen restaurant here in Madrid, Oishii. We ate plenty of Japanese food, and got nostalgic about the country we miss dearly. After sushi, we went Vips, to get Ben another dessert. He had pancakes with three different types of syups.
Happy birthday babe!

Friday, October 18, 2013

Plenty of seats open on the metro. Friday afternoon is
basically the weekend, some people had half days, others won’t be off for
another hour or so. My feet are tired. Wednesday I taught for twelve hours
without a break. Yesterday I taught ten. It’s not ideal, but I’m in demand. That’s why I took those difficult days… I’m
in demand. Doctors, engineers, scientists, asked for me by name, because I can
teach them English, I can say
the words and understand what part of speech their word derived from Greek or
Latin is. After 5 hours of teaching English, it is nearly impossible use the
language correctly any more. “Can you explain me the meaning?” I’m pretty sure
that’s wrong… but I can’t for the life of me remember why, or how to correct them.
I’m by metro to home. I correct this
phrase half a dozen times a day, but it’s all I can think as I sit in my oddly warm
plastic seat.

A man hops on the train at the last second. Damn, he has an accordion. I pause my
audiobook, and roll my eyes. Musicians
seem to prefer line five, plenty of tourists use it to get to and from the city
center, and tourists are much more generous. The accordionist looks around the
car, only five of us. He leans against the door of the moving train, exhausted.
I smile to myself, and hit play on my audiobook. The accordionist exits the car
no doubt to go pester another car out of their money.

I text my friends, we were supposed to go out tonight, but
Ben is sick and I want to cook him some chicken soup. Luckily someone else
already suggested we change the plan, so I get out of it guilt free.

The train rumbles to a stop again. Only one man slinks on to
the train, closing the train door behind him. Despite most of the seats being
empty, he sits next to me, tucking his belongings next to him on the floor of
the train. I glance at him, uncomfortable with his choice of seats. He looks
scared. I scan him and his belongings, deciding whether or not I want to change
my seat. He’s the accordionist. I look out the window of the train, trying to
figure out what he’s hiding from, and see a neon colored security officer
scanning the cars of the train.

The whistle blows, the doors latch. The officer and the accordionist
lock eyes. The officer puts his hands on his hips, pointedly stares at the
musician as we slide away. The accordionist stares back at the officer, his
face frozen in distress. The officer falls out of view of, as the train slips
into the dark tunnels of the metro. The accordionist looks around the train,
taking in the surroundings he failed to register in his moment of flight. He
locks eyes with me, and I burst into laughter, uncontrollable, stich in my side
laughter. The expression on his face goes from fear, to confusion, to glee, and
he joins me. The other passengers on the train stare at us out of the corners
of their eyes, hoping we’re not contagious.

The doors open at the next station, a flood of people cram their
way onto the train. The accordionist gathers up his belongings, and prepares
for his performance. He turns to face me, winks, and begins to play. He is
wonderful, the adrenaline, or the outburst have enlivened him, and he plays his
tunes cheerfully to a bewildered crowd.

I wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes, and pick up my
belongings. The train pulls into my station, and I smile as I walk the short
distance home.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Ben and I had a wonderful weekend.
Friday night we had a dinner party, it was nice having people in my home, eating my food, and laughing at each other's stories.
Saturday, We went hiking for about four hours during the day in Casa de Campo. I went shopping with a friend. And, we went to a birthday party, where we ate delicious food, laughed in someone else's house, and spoke in Spanish.
Today, Ben and I went out to lunch for a delicious Menu del Dia in Opera, went shopping (for sweaters), and cooked way too much lentil soup (I accidently made more than 6 quarts...). We took some over to a friend of ours, and spoke Spanish again, and Ben got to eat some amazing cake.
We have a good life!

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Cities are loud! The noise is often overwhelming, and after an extended period, I start to feel agitated by the never ending hustle of the city.
Luckily for me, Madrid has wonderful parks. Ben and I try to go to a park at least once a week, and today we finally made it to the biggest park, Casa de Campo. The park is over six square miles and is a great place to spend a day hiking.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

I finally have my schedule set, no more job interviews!I am working 29 hours a week, which is quite a lot for an English teacher here, considering that those hours do not include planning time, or travel. I think I've done really well in planing my schedules, I never have to travel more than 3 times in a day, including getting to and from my apartment. In total I will be spending six hours a week in transit.
Financially this is fantastic, Ben and I could live off my paycheck alone, anything he makes will just be fun money. I'm glad I could take the pressure off Ben. He is applying for grad school, and I want to make sure he has enough time, money, and energy to do everything he needs.
I feel incredibly relieved that I don't need to look for more work. Now, my free time is mine to do what I want. Ben is hoping to work about 20 hours a week, and so far has 13 of those hours, the game is rigged against him though, he doesn't speak enough Spanish to work in the really small companies, he is a man (students can specify what gender they would prefer the teacher to be), and he doesn't have as many years of experience with children as I do (thanks mom and dad!). I'm not worried, places are still hiring, I just want him to stop feeling guilty.

Monday, October 7, 2013

If you had a time machine, would you rather go forward in time, or
backward? After two months in time, my definitive answer is forward. I
know I would not be able to stomach the odors of the past.

Madrid is smelly, the trash is smelly, the streets are smelly, the people are smelly, I expected this before I came, but I was not prepared for the reality.
The
trash in Madrid is no smellier than most countries, the problem is it
is more exposed than other countries. There are no back allies in
Madrid, only courtyards, and exposed streets. Restaurant trash is taken
out daily, which means the trash bins are left out on the street over
night. In the evenings the wonderful aromas of Spanish cuisine out
compete the scent of trash, but during the day, the smell of trash is
inescapable.
If your out and about at night, where can you find a
bathroom? According to the locals, anywhere out of sight of the cops.
If you are walking about Madrid between 4:00-10:00 in the morning, the
smell of urine is inescapable. If you look closely at the highly
graffitied walls, you'll notice streaks of urine interspersed. I could
be wrong, but I'm fairly certain Madrid's only attempt at removing
graffiti is by the locals pissing on it.
I spent most of the last
year in a country of people with no body odor. Japan is remarkably odor
free, and so Spain is a shock to the system. Not every Spaniard smells
bad, but it's not just people who don't have access to showers that are
an issue here. Businessmen, high fashion women, and all sorts of
professionals smell as bad as the drunken drifter passed out on the
metro. In America, this would be considered unprofessional, and would
make it more difficult to socialize, but here no-one seems to bat an
eye. One of my classes of teenagers smells so bad it makes my eyes
water, and my stomach churn when I am stuck in a class with them with no
windows.
Worse than body odor are the people with halitosis.
Luckily this isn't as common as body odor, but this smell actually makes
me gag. I would say about one person out of every hundred has
halitosis. The Spanish diet is the perfect cocktail for bad breath, lots
of breads, lots of meat, and coffee. Bad breath is much more common
here, but on some people it is overwhelming. People with persistent
halitosis not only have bad breath, their clothes become saturated with
the smell of stale halitosis.

Spain is my limit, I
could not handle worse smells (and sometimes I can't even handle it
here). I am certain that it smelled much worse in the past, before
toothpaste, before deodorant, before daily showers were the norm, before
daily trash pickup, or before plumbing.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Ben and I went to the free hours for the Reina Sofia Museum of Art today. It features modern art, and has pieces by both Dali and Picasso. I'm quite hit or miss when it comes to modern art, I enjoy cubism (but not much of Picasso), Van Gough (though not his super morbid stuff), some Abstractism, Supremitism (especially from Russia), and a few painters here and there outside of those genres, but for the most part, I find modern art tedious.

The exhibits of Reina Sofia were not tedious, they were upsetting. I felt like I was trapped in a horror movie, and felt nervous and agitated most of the time I was there. I'm not sure why modern art films feature static, shaky cameras, and unfocused lenses so often, it's not creative, it's poor quality. The obnoxious noises of "modern art" were inescapable throughout the museum.

The museum was hard to navigate, We couldn't find the exhibits we wanted to see, and got lost in dark rooms with flickering lights. There were many small rooms separated by huge empty spaces. The museum felt like a factory. I'm glad I didn't pay for the museum, it was an interesting two hours of my life, but not worth a cent.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

It's hard to tell how quickly you are learning a language, while immersed in it. Sometimes it feels like you are a sponge absorbing knowledge at an alarming rate. Other times, it feels like there is no possible way you could be learning less.
When I first got to Spain, I had no idea how to order food, what I was looking at on the menus, and could barely communicate on even a basic level.
Today, I aced a job interview in Spanish! I didn't use a word of English, the interviewer didn't speak any English. The interview was for a position as an English teacher, so they are very used to people who speak Spanish as a second language, but I negotiated a contract, talked about my experience in Japan, and even made a joke.
I love learning Spanish, compared to Japanese, it is incredibly easy. The grammar makes sense, the writing system makes sense, and there are many cognates between English and Spanish.
I am nowhere near fluent in Spanish. But, I am coming up on conversational, at the moment, I am able to hold a basic conversation with anyone with some patience... and that feels good!

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

For the most part, I am recovered from my run in with the train, all I have now is a greenish tint that runs up and down my shin, and a blue bruise around my knee. It no longer hurts to walk, the only problems now are random charley horses in my foot, and intense pain pain if bump my shin into anything. The first couple of days I could barely walk. I spent those days napping, watching TV (until our internet went out), and being spoiled with chocolate and tea by Ben.
The adrenaline messed with me as much as the injury did. I felt nauseous all the day after I got hurt, and have been having awful nightmares. I haven't seen much of Spain these last few days. There's a special kind of home sickness when your injured or sick, it more than just missing home. When I was sick as a kid, I got the day off of going to school, I had no worries, my dad made me soup, and I got to watch TV all day. I didn't have to worry about anything, and I got doted on more than I could even handle. Now I still have to go to work, reply to emails, reassure my family that I am alive and healing...
I will be a full fledged grownup again... tomorrow.